


Bright Ideas

by drakonlily (VincentValentine)



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-26
Updated: 2009-12-26
Packaged: 2017-10-05 07:11:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VincentValentine/pseuds/drakonlily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone dared me to write Vincent Valentine / Hojo. And I did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bright Ideas

Bright Ideas

"Oh stop looking at me like I broke up with you." Vincent snapped from around his cigarette. He took the burning stick angrily out of his mouth and flicked it into the train's ashtray.

"You pretty much did! Coward!" Hojo snapped right back, but in a very familiar motion he snaked the pack from Vincent's front pocket. "You were-"

"Toshi, I turned into a monster and killed five people." Vincent's voice hinted that he didn't really mind the action as much as the lack of control he had over it.

"Cry me a damn river. You just got pissed off when the Mother Project got faster results. Your back got up and you couldn't make the jump." Hojo Toshi tapped the bottom of Vincent's pack, popping a cigarette out and took the item with his mouth. A flick of his wrist sparked the lighter and he took a long drag. "You always are like this, fucking wunderkind."

Vincent didn't move away or seem the slightest bit uncomfortable when Hojo placed the pack and lighter back into the pocket they came from. Vincent leaned back, however, when they were within his jacket. "You don't get it."

"You left, US, you left Lucrecia and I for-" Hojo waved his hands "some gun toting idiocy?"

"Oh I was going to end up violating hippa sooner or later." Vincent looked out the window a moment; dark hair fell into his eyes when he snapped his head over to look at the door.

"You're wasting your talents." Hojo muttered. His eyes followed Vincent's to the roof of the train, then the door. He watched lazily as Vincent stood and crossed smoothly to the doorway. "Hrm, I wasn't expecting them…"

Vincent shrugged.

A half second later the door to the train car was kicked open. The item slammed against the wall and three people started in. With a smooth movement, Vincent cupped his right hand on the back of the first's head and snapped his left knee up. The motion propelled the man forward and into the lifted knee with a loud crack. Vincent dropped his left foot against the back of the man's spine and spun. He dug his left shoulder then into the second man's chest and flipped him into the room.

Man number three tried to run, but Vincent snaked his hand forward, gripped his collar and threw the third intruder into the room. Vincent slammed the train car door back with force and kicked the floored man out of the way.

Hojo's nose wrinkled. "Well, that was impressive. Shame you couldn't do that when the frat boys jumped us."

Vincent slid between Hojo and the two other men who were scrambling to their feet. "You turned him blue over a girl. I should have left you to get beaten half to death." Vincent popped his neck and adjusted his footing like a cat. He chuckled.

"It would have been pink." Hojo crossed his arms over his chest. "And I still think this is a wasted-" he stopped speaking when Vincent moved again.

The tall man sprung like a cat over the table and in the next second blood. There was a sharp, sliding sound and the following spurt was more of a shower. One high, red arch splashed over Vincent's head. The second fell on him, and the third barely washed over the man who hand his hands desperately trying to keep his throat together. The man sank to his knees before falling to the carpet.

This prompted the last intruder standing to leap backwards against the wall. His palms pressed flat against the tacky wall papering job.

Hojo clapped his hands. "Excellent aim, Vince."

Vincent looked over his shoulder and smiled. Unlike most people, smiling did nothing to make Vincent Valentine seem warmer. The blood splashed over him in the manner of some abstract artwork didn't do anything to make the expression less sinister. Nor did it mask the sheer joy of his work.

He let out a small laugh before turning. "Do you still think you're better than me still?"

"I have plenty of skills." Hojo smirked, "but I know my limitations."

Vincent snapped the small blade up to his shoulder and let it fly at the man in the corner. He was too slow to catch the blade before it slid into his eye. The intruder's hands dropped, his head lolled to the side a bit and his expression faded.

Silence stretched out a few moments before Vincent turned. He glided with predatory strides up to Hojo and lifted up a scalpel between them. Blood dripped from a lock of his hair, grew to a large drop and wavered before falling straight to the floor. Its casting hit the sides of Hojo's shoes. The scalpel glinted in the cheap lighting between their noses. "Want a go?"

Hojo's hand closed around Vincent's. "At him or at you?"

Vincent's response was to yank the scalpel back. It sliced down across Hojo's palm, scratching the surface and drawing a thin line of blood. Hojo hissed and yanked the item back before he could speak, however, Vincent's hand gripped his hair by the crown of his head and yanked him off his feet.

The two struggled a bit before Hojo landed on his back with Vincent pinning him down, blood started to soak up into Hojo's shirt, it was getting slick, nearly sticky but the smell was still fresh and heady. Arched at a strange angle with his knees at the Turk's hips Hojo growled. "I'm still bleeding."

"Lu never let it stop her." Vincent commented.

From under him, Hojo almost sounded affronted. "I'm not Lu" and then a smirk "she's not double jointed."

Vincent snarled in response to that and yanked on hair with his free hand. Hojo hissed when Vincent bit down on his collarbone. Rough hands that were getting gun calluses left bruises on Hojo's wrists and tore clothes down to his hip. Hojo tried to sit up and Vincent slammed a palm against his chest. "I don't think so."

"Vince… you—" Hojo made a sound in the back of his throat. Vincent was rough and demanding. There was something almost regal about him when he wanted to be. It was, perhaps an odd thing to think about when getting a blowjob. The pressure built up too quickly and Hojo cursed when he realized that simply because he had finished didn't mean that Vincent would let him off the hook.

The table made a rather loud breaking sound when they adjusted. Hojo did prove to be doublejointed if the angle he was bent at was any indication. "I forgot about you." He growled.

"Didn't think you were going to top, did you?"

"Well you're prettier than I am."

"Also a foot taller."

Hojo opened his mouth to retort, but instead bit his lip. He was thankful that Turks apparently all carried lubrication on them, or Vincent had stolen it from the bathroom. However he obtained it, it was appreciated. Hojo attempted, with teeth and nails, to draw blood of his own, but it was difficult to do so when your arms were pinned behind your back with your own jacket.

He had lost the feeling in his hand before Vincent relaxed his hold and let go in a stream of nearly silent cursing. Ragged breaths came in somewhere between a growl and a purr.

Hojo laughed "So… what are we going to do about him?" He lifted his chin to the man who was still standing in the corner like a doll.

Vincent kept one hand on Hojo's chest and he glanced over his shoulder. "I have a few ideas."

-+-

"Someone is going to have to explain this…" Smoke curled around Hojo's fingers as he flicked ash to the bloody carpet. He sat with his back leaned against the couch, feet propped up on a broken table. Against the wall the third man was displayed in a true scientific matter and was still dripping. Hojo looked up over his glasses at Vincent, who was sprawled on the couch above him.

"I'm a Turk."

"Is that your explanation for everything, Vince?"

Twin jets of smoke slid from Vincent's nose. "Pretty much, Toshi."

"Well you owe me clothes and an explanation for why I can't walk tomorrow."

A chuckle. "Whatever, Scientist."


End file.
